


Beware of falling cows

by Spylace



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Awkward Dates, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, M/M, happy birthday steve rogers!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1899918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spylace/pseuds/Spylace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve tries to date. </p><p>It’s a critical failure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beware of falling cows

Bucky needed therapy. Lots of therapy after coming back.

As a way of showing support, dealing with a lot of anger and misplaced guilt, Steve also sat in on his sessions from time to time, constantly worried that the shrink might push Bucky too far.

What did a twenty-something year young guy know of the modern Sleeping Beauty? But Sam stood by the benefits of professional counseling and if it helped, Steve was willing to swallow his uncertainties and suffer through whatever it was to get Bucky better again.

“So you two ah... live together?”

“Yes.”

The doctor’s lips thinned, tapping a pen against the top of his notepad. He warned them that there was a difference between an emotional support and emotional  _crutch_  and Steve was teetering dangerously on the verge of the latter.

Meek, Steve had differed to the doctor’s expertise. Despite Bucky’s initial hurt looks and confusion, he cut out all unnecessary touching, talking—so pretty much everything—until he had so much time on his hands he was literally having trouble falling asleep. Half the time, he’s itching to knock on Bucky’s door to ask if he wants to do something, anything.

“Do you have any partners or significant others?” At Steve’s baffled expression, the man asked Bucky to wait outside. As soon as the doors closed, he said “If you’re having performance issues, there are certain medications we can try.”

Steve blushed to the roots of his hair.

“That’s um... that’s really not necessary.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Many people your age group experience these symptoms.”

Gaping, Steve squeaked “No thank you very much?”

The man sniffed.

“Relationship problems are no joke Captain Rogers.”

 

Before Bucky could open his big mouth, Steve warned sternly “whatever you think, this is not a mission.” And the other man looked so crestfallen at this announcement that after feeding him a burger, a mountain of fries and chocolate milkshake, he caved in like a house of cards. “Alright, you can  _pretend_  it’s a mission.”

Bucky beamed.

“So we have to find you a dame.”

“Not again.” Steve groaned.

The forties might have been a lifetime ago for most people but he still remembered it like yesterday, the double dates and the way Bucky ended up with a girl in each arm at the end of the night.

But Bucky seemed so enthused by the prospect he wondered if the doctor hadn’t been right. Maybe he had to take a step back and let his friend have some space.

Natasha, wandering the globe in a soul-searching journey post-Project Insight, had put together a hundred-seven page binder on New York’s eligible bachelors complete with pictures, personality, hobbies and background information.

It was of Steve’s firm opinion that she needed a new hobby. Bucky murmured in appreciation at the glossy pages.

“Alright.” Steve said, handing over the binder. He scooted close, knocking their shoulders as they perused the profiles like they were looking for the funnies on the morning paper.

“She’s a looker.” Bucky declared, pointing unhelpfully at a blonde in a picture.

“Bucky.” Steve said pained. “She has five cats.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose.

“Thought the serum got rid of your allergies.”

“They did.” Steve confirmed, in case Bucky got it in his head to eradicate all feline-kind. “But that doesn’t mean I like them.”

“Why not?”

“They’re creepy.” Steve replied and when the other man began to laugh, he punched the metal arm and said, “No really, it’s the way they stare at you like they want to, I don’t know, eat you.”

When Bucky continued to laugh, Steve deployed his fingers and tickled his best friend into submission. “Uncle, uncle! Alright? I give!” Bucky wheezed. Tapping at another photograph, he asked “What about her?”

Indignant, Steve said tartly “If I wanted to date Natasha, I would ask.”

“Who says she wants to date you?” Bucky snorted, sprawled across his lap. Automatically, Steve cupped his head, massaging his thumb into the spot behind the other man’s ears. It was comfortable, familiar, as though the few degrees of separation between them had all been a bad dream.

By dinnertime, they managed to narrow the candidates down to eleven. There had been several men thrown in, all tall, broad and extremely good-looking.

Steve had no idea why Natasha thought—about anything—he wanted to date  _Thor_.

But he did linger on a picture of a brunet with dark eyes and black curls. There was something about him that drew the eye. Maybe the flirty pout of his mouth, the straight line of his fingers as they rested beneath his chin.

“Should I add him too?” Bucky asked.

A beat later, Steve said “Nah.”

Bucky seemed disappointed and relieved.

 

It was hard to date when everyone knew your name, shoe size and favorite brand of toothpaste. The first person on the list, Joy, was very upfront about her discomfort dating a celebrity. Rachel, a native New Yorker, was so excited that she began tweeting as soon as he picked up the phone.

As a result, he became a household name for yellow journalism. He couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with articles about him doing physically impossible things to other physically impossible people. Captain America and the Winter Soldier cowered in their apartment, surviving only on pizza and tap water. On the third day of their self-inflicted exile, Sam took pity on them and brought them groceries. He hastily excused himself when he saw Bucky eyeing the bananas.

The dates were disasters. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; it was just hard to adjust to 21st century decorum. If communication was key to every relationship, why didn’t Erica tell him it was a formal event?

[How’s your date?]Bucky texted him.

[Not good]

[:<]

Steve ended up choking on water. Julie was so disgusted, she left without another word.

 

Bucky had good days and bad days, off days and great days that put the shine in his eyes like a canary on the stage. Naturally, Steve tried to be there as much as possible. Bucky never got sick but sometimes he’d forget to eat or drink or try to scrimp thinking they were still on rations. So when Tony asked how his date had gone, Steve said “Huh?”

“You know.” Tony said meaningfully, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No, I really have no idea.”

Throwing his hands up, Tony exclaimed “Sarah, you know. The girl who was waiting in the lobby yesterday?”

“How do you know about Sarah?” Steve accused.

The other man shrugged.

“Romanoff sent all of us copies.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Look, Bucky was feeling beat okay?”

“So on a scale from one to five, that’s a negative nine thousand?”

“Why are you asking?” Steve narrowed his eyes. Tony began to edge away. “Are you guys placing bets on this? No of course you are. I can’t believe you!”

The next day, US Weekly announced Captain America aka Steve Rogers as the worst date of the year.

 

“Maybe it’s your technique.”

“It’s not my technique!”

Bucky stared. “But how do you know?”

“How can you tell?” Steve shot back and Bucky crooked his fingers like he was hurting to rope Steve into a lot of trouble, real quick.

It was hard to tell with Bucky, the now Bucky, the one he had, if his actions held any meaning or if he did it simply because it was required of him. He regretted telling Bucky that this was a mission. But his mouth was oh so soft against his own, his tongue just the right amount of pressure against his lips. Steve opened his mouth, letting Bucky scale his teeth. His heart thumped against his ribs, making it heart to think. Was he having a heart attack?

They didn’t break apart. It was a gradual thing like a morning glory touched by sunlight or a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis. Bucky huffed against his lips.

“How ‘bout that?”

Steve said weakly “I think I need you to show me one more time.”

 

They were at a club. Clint suggested it after laughing himself into a coma on the other end of the line. It had come as a text since the archer had no more air left in his lungs to spare.

Bucky was immediately pulled to the dance floor, lacking the social stigma of being outed as undatable to everyone who owned a TV. And while there were interested parties like Jenny, who clung tight to his arm, cutting off his circulation, Steve’s eyes rested on his friend’s undulating form like a compass needle to its north.

Things were different in the twenty-first century. Pelvic thrusts and grinds, stuff that normally made him blush and avert his eyes, left his mouth dry on Bucky’s technicolored skin. Slipping Jenny’s patriotic zeal, Steve cut in front of Bucky and framed his hips, holding him in place to keep.

“Hey.” Bucky said breathlessly; face flush with a healthy color. His hair fell into his eyes and a hand came up, tucking it behind his ears. He didn’t seem to mind that his prosthetic was visible; in fact, it earned him more than its share of admirers. “What’s wrong? Where’s your girl?”

“She left.” Steve answered. He didn’t tell him why.

“Oh.”

“May I have this dance?” He asked.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck.

"Thought you'd never ask punk."

 

Anya was his date for a charity event. She was engaging and had a wicked sense of humor. Though she wasn’t traditionally beautiful, the lush curves of her body made her a goddess incarnate. She looked like a renaissance masterpiece. Steve knew he was lucky to have her. He also knew whom he would have preferred to have by his side, waving his hand and smiling at the camera. Steve was just a dumb kind from 1940s Brooklyn; he didn’t deserve the fame or glamour. But he thought he had done enough rights in his lifetime to earn at least this.

“Look, it’s not you. It’s me.”

Anya whirled around.

"But why?"  

“I love someone else.” He admitted freely. “I’ve loved him a long time.”

 

“So what’s next for the man with a plan?” Bucky asked, swinging his legs freely on the railing.

Steve shrugged. “Figure I’d enjoy myself a little. It’s been a stressful few weeks.”

“Yeah.” Bucky said and as though trying to catch himself, he swallowed the words back and choked. “I mean.”

If Bucky hadn’t figured it out yet, Steve wasn’t about to push.

“Are you sure Steve?”

He smiled.

“I’ve got everything I need right here.”

 

“Is this a date?” Bucky asked halfway through the evening. Someone kicked from the back and Bucky flipped them the bird. As good as it felt seeing some of the old cockiness return to his friend; Steve had hoped to weed out bad habits early.

“Bucky,” he hissed, slapping his hand down. “That’s rude!”

“Are we?”

“Shh...” Someone hissed. “This is the best part.”

“And if I say yes...?”

In the gold light of Grace Kelly’s entrance into the ballroom, Bucky gave him a disappointed look.

“Then I’d have to ask why I don't get a kiss.”

“I gave you a kiss. I gave you lots of kisses.”

“They don’t count.” Bucky dismissed. “They were practice kisses.”

They held hands.

“They really, really weren’t.”

Bucky ducked his head, staring at their joined hands.

“Thought you liked dames.”

“You’re my best girl Buck. Why would I look for anyone else?”

The person in the back kicked again. Before Bucky could start swinging fists or worse, Steve held his chin and brought their eyes together. They kissed once and he said, "What do you say we get out of here?"

Bucky's lips went crooked.

“Gonna make an honest fella out of me Steve?"

“Damn straight.” Steve promised solemnly. “I'll even buy you a ring." 

 

"Gosh, I mean gosh." Tony Stark announced at an interview after the story broke. "I could have never seen this coming. It wasn't like Butch and Sundance weren't already attached at the hip..."

 

"I'm just glad they're finally together." Natasha Romanoff said without blinking as though reading off a script. "It's really great." 

 

Steve Rogers and James Barnes could not be reached for comment. 


End file.
